


Families Are Like Fudge (Mostly Sweet With a Few Nuts)

by AntarcticBird



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-17
Updated: 2013-11-17
Packaged: 2018-01-01 20:51:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1048441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AntarcticBird/pseuds/AntarcticBird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b><a href="http://regala-electra.tumblr.com/">regala-electra</a> prompted:</b> post-honeymoon blaine and kurt unwrapping wedding gifts they definitely DID NOT put on their wedding registry. (and deciding what to do with them).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Families Are Like Fudge (Mostly Sweet With a Few Nuts)

“So, how do you want to do this?” Kurt asks, eyeing the stack of gifts that's sitting on the coffee table in their tiny living room. It's high enough he can't even see the television from his vantage point by the door.

 

Blaine yawns and stretches his arms over his head, shirt riding up to reveal just a few inches of belly and Kurt thinks that after just getting back from a two-week long honeymoon, the sight shouldn't make his fingers itch quite like that.

 

“Huh?” Blaine asks eloquently, sleepily blinking up at Kurt.

 

“The gifts,” Kurt clarifies. “We should open them.”

 

“Oh.” Blaine nods, walking the few feet over to Kurt to fall face-first against his chest, arms wrapping around his waist, and he sighs contentedly. “Sure. You go ahead. I'm just gonna stay here.”

 

“Blaine!” Kurt grabs onto Blaine's arms, trying to unwrap them from his body, but Blaine has a pretty firm hold on him and he's nothing if not persistent when he's all sleepy and cuddly like this. Blaine takes cuddling very seriously. “Come on! If Brittany really did get us a puppy like she threatened, it just spent two weeks in a box and it's gonna be hungry.”

 

Blaine laughs against Kurt's pajama shirt and shakes his head a little, face rubbing over one of Kurt's nipples in the process, and okay, Kurt decides they really have to get this over with so that they can go back to bed. “Take turns?” Blaine suggests. “You can open the first one.”

 

Kurt nods, finally succeeding in pushing Blaine off of him a little. “Okay. But you go first.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Yes.” Kurt leans forward to kiss his nose. “You'll just fall asleep on me if I don't keep you occupied. Pick one.”

 

Blaine drops down onto the rug in front of the coffee table and starts sorting through the stack of brightly wrapped boxes. Kurt sits down cross-legged next to him, watching as Blaine selects a gift, opens the card to read who it's from.

 

“From Brittany,” he tells Kurt. “But it's too small. Not a puppy, then.”

 

“I actually asked her, you know?” Kurt admits. “I told her we wouldn't be opening them until we got back and that she should tell me if there was anything living in that box.”

 

“What did she say?” Blaine wants to know, carefully peeling away the wrapping paper.

 

“That her gift would actually be more useful after the honeymoon anyway. Which probably means -”

 

“Oh,” Blaine says, the last of the paper falling away to reveal -

 

“No. Really?” Kurt bites his lip, trying very hard to look offended, but then he glances at Blaine and Blaine looks back at him, the corners of his mouth twitching dangerously, and laughter just bubbles over inside of him. Blaine joins him only a second later.

 

“A pregnancy test,” Blaine whimpers. “Oh my god, only Brittany could -”

 

Kurt sags against Blaine, tears in his eyes as he hiccups, trying to compose himself. “How does she even think -”

 

“I have _no_ idea. Although,” Blaine giggles, leaning against Kurt a little, “If I actually _were_ a woman I'd definitely be pregnant after – uh. You know. Because _oh my god_ Kurt, like, that thing you did three nights ago -”

 

“I know. I was there.” Kurt wipes his eyes, takes a few deep breaths to calm himself down, then pats Blaine's belly lovingly. “You did kind of put on a few pounds though.”

 

“Hey,” Blaine says, offended, pouting at Kurt.

 

“Oh, shut up, you know I love it,” Kurt tells him, leaning over to kiss Blaine gently on the lips, then quickly bends down, pushes his shirt up, and blows a raspberry on Blaine's belly.

 

Blaine squirms away, hands batting at Kurt's shoulders half-heartedly. “...tickles, I told you not to do that, that _tickles_ , stop it!”

 

But when they pick up the wrapping paper to fold it up to be tossed out later, a photograph falls out – unframed, showing all of the New Directions, in the choir room. They're almost sitting in each other's laps to fit into the picture. Blaine actually _is_ in Kurt's lap, and they're both grinning at the camera, surrounded by all of their friends. Blaine turns it over, and there on the back it says (written in crayon, each letter a different color): _For my favorite unicorns_.

 

“Oh.” Kurt clears his throat, suddenly blinking real tears from his eyes.

 

“That's sweet of her,” Blaine says, leaning his head on Kurt's shoulder, and then they just kind of stay like that for a while.

 

“My turn,” Kurt says finally, sitting up straight and picking the next gift from the pile.

 

“What are we doing with this one?” Blaine asks, holding up the useless pregnancy test.

 

“I don't know, give it to Santana and Dani as a joke,” Kurt suggests, knowing he won't do that, not really.

 

He picks a box slightly bigger than Blaine's and checks the card. “From Rachel,” he announces. “Maybe she actually at least had a look at our wedding registry -”

 

Blaine scoots in closer to hook his chin over Kurt's shoulder, watching as Kurt unwraps the box.

 

Inside is a vegan cookbook, three DVDs with bootlegs of some of Rachel's off-Broadway performances (including a 90-minute recording of a night at Callbacks that Kurt remembers had resulted in Rachel being forcefully removed from the stage after hogging the microphone for over an hour), and a few scented candles.

 

“Well, at least we can actually use most of that,” Blaine comments. “And it's … really nice.”

 

“Yeah, I guess,” Kurt admits, setting the box down with a shrug and a grin. This is actually more than he'd expected, since Rachel had already surprised them at their reception with getting all of the New Directions (the new ones and all of the old ones) together and throwing them an impromptu thirty-minute concert. They have a DVD of that, too. It was an amazing present.

 

The next gift is from Puck and Santana (“ _They don't even live in the same state anymore, why are they giving us gifts together_?” Blaine asks, confused, and Kurt just rolls his eyes. “ _I don't think we want to know, do you_?”) and contains a carefully wrapped dildo bouquet, a pair of handcuffs, a book entitled “69 Positions of Joyful Sex” and edible underwear.

 

(The both agree to toss out the edible underwear, and they're pretty sure they don't need the book, thank you very much. They're creative enough in that department if the last two weeks were any indication. But Blaine sort of eyes the handcuffs curiously, rubbing his wrists like he's already imagining a couple of things they could be doing with those, and Kurt kind of can't quite bring himself to get rid of the dildos, he's not sure yet what they'd be doing with them, but he thinks an idea is definitely brewing in the back of his mind. And it kind of involves Blaine being handcuffed to the bed, so. Those items can stay.)

 

Sam gives them a set of salt and pepper shakers shaped like Frodo and Galadriel.

 

“All right, we can keep them,” Kurt agrees, giving in to Blaine's big puppy eyes. “But don't expect me to use them all the time.” Blaine smiles and kisses him and Kurt has to admit that it is kind of a cute gift, even if it doesn't go with their dinner plates _at all_.

 

Wes gives them matching ties and a _gavel_ , with a lengthy note attached about The Warblers being the place where it all started and how they should never forget their beginnings and Blaine grins as he scans the words on the page.

 

“He says this is the actual gavel he used during your very first rehearsal with us,” he tells Kurt. “And he wants us to have it as a memento of the _hallowed halls in which our love took its very first steps towards the_ – Kurt, are you crying?”

 

“No,” Kurt chokes out, quickly wiping his eyes with the back of his sleeve. “I'm just – getting a cold. Did no one even _look_ at our registry?” he asks, trying to deflect. “We _do_ need a new blender. Do any of these packages look blender-shaped to you?”

 

Blaine sets down the gavel and draws Kurt into a hug and for a moment they just kiss, surrounded by wrapping paper. And a growing pile of rather weird objects, which their friends inexplicably seem to think they need in order to start their married life together.

 

Mike gives them cookie cutters, which, okay, wasn't on their registry, but they can both agree that that was obviously an oversight on their part.

 

The next gift is from Artie, a box with two soft, wrapped presents inside, one with Kurt's name and one with Blaine's written across.

 

“I don't have a good feeling about this,” Kurt mutters as he hands Blaine's off to him.

 

“Aw, come on, we already got the dildo bouquet, it can't get much worse than that,” Blaine says as he unwraps his gift and then falls silent.

 

He looks over at Kurt who stares at him with wide eyes, a blank expression on his face. “How -” he starts, but doesn't even finish the question.

 

“I don't know,” Blaine says, looking at the item he's holding – a custom printed beach towel with Kurt's face on it – and at the one Kurt's holding, which is also a beach towel, Blaine's own face grinning up at him. “Um.”

 

“Yeah.” Kurt carefully folds the towel and puts it back in the box, breathing evenly, obviously trying not to laugh. “I mean, first of all, we live in New York, and second of all, I really don't know how I feel about lying on your face.”

 

“Yeah, no, that's a bit much,” Blaine agrees, stuffing his own towel back into the box on top of Kurt's. Then he just stares at the box for a few seconds. “Do you think our faces are making out in there right now?” he whispers.

 

Kurt snorts, elbows him in the ribs, and scrambles to his feet. “Well, I need a break. Coffee?”

 

“Oh, please,” Blaine groans, and lets Kurt pull him to his feet.

 

“And then we're going out to find new friends.”

 

“Aw, come on, Kurt. They meant well. At least all of the gifts are really personal?” Blaine tries.

 

“I guess.” Kurt sighs. “But I was really hoping for a new blender. I feel like all those movies have been lying to me for years. I was led to believe it was the most common wedding present since – the invention of blenders, basically.”

 

Blaine laughs. “I love you.”

 

“Love you too,” Kurt says, taking his hand and pulling him towards the kitchen. “But I can't wait for all of _them_ to get married so we can custom-print _their_ faces onto beach towels.”

 

“How do you feel about opening the rest of them later and going back to bed after coffee?”

 

Kurt crowds him against the kitchen wall, kissing him long and deep and a little dirty. “I knew there was a reason I married you. You have the best ideas.”

 

“Someone in our circle of friends has to hold that title,” Blaine agrees.

 

“I'm glad it's you,” Kurt tells him, smiling, and kisses him again.


End file.
